Life on Water
by meshalok
Summary: Ron and Harry are left alone in the common room during the dead of night, worrying about who to bring to the Yule Ball. But it's already too late, and they are left with no choice. Ron/Harry


**I know, I'm a horrible person. Notes should be on the bottom. They're ANNOYING. But you see, the thing is, this is my first fic, so I decided to play it the safe paranoid way because I don't want to screw everything up.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or his subjects. Friends. I also don't own JK Rowling, so please don't try to sue me, sue her, she created the whole shebang...**

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The room was dimly lit, hot coals flickered between gray and red and orange, changing color so fast one would believe they where a cuttlefish in danger. But that was not the case, they were simply coals. The last of the Gryffindor students were dragging themselves to their dorms, all staying at least an arm-length away from each other to avoid irritation and cat fights, for they had all just spent the great majority of a splendid evening inside the common room studying for various tests and quizzes, and everyone knows that learning brings the personal space paranoia out of the best of us.

Only two boys remained in the unsettlingly comfy room. They both were sprawled lazily on opposite ends of a reddish brown couch that would be atrocious looking in any other room except this one, and were both desperately grasping for ideas on how to escape the situation in which they currently found themselves.

"Harry, mate," said the boy who had startling red hair and freckles that had been splattered mercilessly across his face, "I don't think we can do it."

The recipient of these words, Harry assumedly, was another teenage boy of approximately fourteen years who had dark black hair that, while messy, was a far cry from a certain vampire's, and eyes so green that they could be compared to the color of the unforgivably deadly curse _Avada Kadavra_, according to canon.

Harry's friend's words caused him to straighten up from his slouched position and turn to look at the previous speaker with eyes of only determination and green glory, "Ron," he said firmly, "don't be such a downer. We've been through too much together to let some silly _Yule Ball_ be our downfall, all we have to do is ask a couple of girls out, how hard can that be? It's not like they bite, right?"

Ronald seemed a bit skeptical at the last rhetorical question, but didn't make any attempt at contradiction. Instead he replied, "Right."

Harry observed his friends one syllable reply with another frown, "Ron…"

The hormonal adolescent acknowledged the other by turning his head slightly in his friend's direction and locking gazes with the luminescent green balls of fire, silently giving him the unnecessary consent to continue.

"Ron, you need to be more confident about this. They can smell fear, and if they even catch a whiff of uncertainty, you're a goner." Harry had said this with the purpose of preparing his friend for the task that lay ahead, but as soon as the words slipped past the barrier of his lips, the hard truth took the form of despair and drenched his innocent heart, making it sink deep into the calluses of his feet.

Ron seemed to have the same reaction, his freckles making an alarming contrast with his pale face. They both slouched further into the couch; far enough to make any spine specialist rant and rave about the importance of good posture. Ron gave a deep, long suffering sigh that he struggled to prevent from evolving into a yawn, the late hour was beginning to take a toll on them, "It doesn't matter anyways," he said dejectedly, "By now, they're all either taken or lesbian."

Harry nodded absentmindedly as he finished off an enormous yawn, his strikingly deadly and enticingly magnificent green eyes leaving our view momentarily as he scrunched them up, attempting to appease their nearly undeniable need to become unconscious. He opened them up again, giving us all minor cases of cancer from the radiation.

They sat in silence, thoughts of the upcoming Yule Ball feasting maliciously on their hopeless emotions. The dying coals in the hearth hissed and crackles ominously, as if whispering to them the pain and humility they would be dealt if they did not find a solution.

Then Harry sat up again, the light of an epiphany making him glow like an elf from Lord of the Rings, "I've got it!"

Ron sat up as well, staring expectantly into the high quality emerald crystals that are Harry's eyes, "Well?"

Harry then hesitated, looking at the ginger sheepishly, "Err… maybe… instead of going through the trouble of asking some girl out, how about we just… umm…" At this point Harry was a little red faced and was burning holes in the ground with his green laser beam eyes while shifting his feet nervously.

Harry continued these actions and Ron began to get impatient, unable to understand what would make his friend behave so oddly, "Harry?" he asked, allowing some of his slight irritation to permeate his tone.

Harry fidgeted a bit more, glanced up at Ron a few times, then mumbled something incoherent.

"What?"

He mumbled it again; eyes fixedly staring at the floor.

The red head rolled his eyes, "Blimey, mate, whatever you've got to say can't be that-"

"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Harry burst out, blushing furiously around his kryptonite green eyes, making images like watermelons and Christmas pop in your head.

"Oh," was Ron's one syllable reply.

"Just as friends of course," Harry said quickly, "There's nothing in the rules about the gender of your escort, and we're both available, obviously. I just need someone to dance with at the beginning, that's all. We don't even have to do anything together after that, just go around and enjoy the party with everyone else without being escorts and-"

"Yes."

"What?"

Ron met Harry's wide, eccentric green eyes, his face was as red as the exit button in the corner of your computer screen, "Yes Harry, I'll go to the Yule Ball with you."

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**HaHA! Good, right? You tell me. Please. Then I'll continue this. ;}**


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